


you were never mine, so never mind.

by farfarawaygirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Accidental Love Declarations, Angst, Communication Failure, F/M, Fools in Love, Softness, Speculation for 9x06, happiness to pain, heart break is coming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: Inspired by the 9x06 sneak peeksKidd swings her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders, pulling her in close, “not even thirty minutes into shift, and you’re already braver than any smoke eater I know.”Song by Cannons
Relationships: Stella Kidd/Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey, Sylvie Brett/Other(s)
Comments: 74
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, spoilers for 9x07c maybe?
> 
> Second, there is no one braver than Sylvie Brett. She asks the hard questions, she cares so damn much, and she has a forgiving, open heart. 
> 
> Third, I think Matt is about to screw this up...
> 
> Forth, I wrote this in like twenty minutes, while listening to Cannons on repeat. 
> 
> Fifth, we know I can’t edit, so, welcome to my messy life.

In the dead of the night, I see your face in my mind  
I close my eyes and I try real hard not to cry  
But you put stars in my eyes and now i'm hypnotized  
But, you were never mine, so never mind  
Just can't get you off of my mind  
So never mind, you were never mine  
Never mine

Nevermind, Never Mine • Cannons 

Here’s the thing, and it sucks to admit it, but Sylvie misses Matt. 

In a big way. 

She misses everything about them. Because there was a them, as fleeting and ill advised as it was; it’s kept her up at night, the missing. And he is being so respectful. Giving her the space she asked for, even though this whole mess is her fault. He doesn’t deserve to lose their friendship, and she doesn’t deserve him. 

Sylvie doesn’t even plan it, one minute they’re standing at the coffee station talking about Capp and Pecans, and then she’s just telling him that she missed them talking. As she walks away she thinks she was clear, she wants them to go back to normal now. It’s been a few weeks, and she can handle the fall out.

Not that there is fall out. She’s sure Severide knows, and Stella knows, but it never left that circle of trust. 

Foolishly, Sylvie lets her heart get ideas. Maybe now, maybe now is the time that they decide to go ahead and try something. 

Maybe she didn’t screw up the most important relationship in her life. 

“Did I see you and the Captain having a moment at the coffee station?” Stella asks, as Sylvie catches up to her outside the common room. 

“No. But I’m hopeful.”

Kidd swings her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders, pulling her in close, “not even thirty minutes into shift, and you’re already braver than any smoke eater I know.”

The moment is broken by the bells going off, it’s all hands on deck, Sylvie placing her blueish ceramic mug on the counter by the tower as she runs out the door. She doesn’t imagine the way Casey’s eyes press into her back as he pulls on his gear; please, Sylvie thinks, please let us be okay. 

The call is chaos. A baby trapped in a car. Free flowing gasoline. Sparks. 

Gallo dives in and makes an incredible save, but in the confusion of what happens no one know where he is for a few solid minutes. Tension are heightened when everyone is back in the house, Sylvie sees Matt head off to his quarters looking very determined. This is what she has missed, the ability to go and ask him about what’s happening for him. 

Sylvie fights that pull for a minute before she decides to just do it. They’ve cleared the air. This is precisely what she wanted to protect; the easy intimacy between them. If not now, when?

“Hey.”

Casey looks up from his desk, sending her the same smile that always makes her heart flutter, just a little, behind her ribs. 

“Hey.”

Sylvie pulls the door shut behind her, and makes her way over to the foot of his bed. “Talk to me? What with that face?”

It’s surprising easy. Like it never stopped between them, and Matt shares with her the concern he has with Gallo. Is Gallo a little too cavalier? Too hot headed?

“You have been known to circumvent orders when needed,” Sylvie says, “I think you just need to know if it really was needed this time.”

Matt scrubs a hand over his face, he looks tired, like sleep has been a little elusive, and Sylvie hopes that she’s not the cause. She doesn’t want to put him out in any way. 

“Sometimes I worry that I’m not doing enough as his commanding officer.”

“Matt,” Sylvie starts, just as the door opens, and it takes her a moment to figure out what is happening. 

It’s the woman. From the billboard accident, and she’s smiling sheepishly over at Casey, holding a plain white tee shirt in her hands. “Matt, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to stop by and drop off doughnuts for your guys, and return your shirt. You left it at mine the other night.”

It’s like someone turned on a white noise machine, because Sylvie is distantly aware that Matt is replying to the woman, she even watches him get up and take his shirt, but all Sylvie can hear is a rushing in her ears. 

“I’m Sydney.” 

Sylvie finds herself shaking the red heads hand, blinking as she tries to school her face into blankness. “I remember you.”

“I dropped of doughnuts in the kitchen.” It’s a dismissal, a polite one, but one none the less, and Sylvie finds herself getting to her feet. Her face feels numb. She stuffs her hands in her pockets, nodding at Sydney. And then mercifully she is out of the room. Sylvie makes her feet move at a normal pace, but bypasses the common area completely. Once she’s on the App floor she moves quickly, pulling herself into the back of the Ambo and closing the doors behind her. 

Pushing her hands into her hair Sylvie breathes through the disappointment. She leans back and tries to calm her racing heart. This is the most she has felt like crying since that night she asked him to leave her apartment. 

Replaying it in her mind, Sylvie repeats all the highlights. 

Sydney interrupting them. 

Sydney bringing doughnuts, doughnuts she had termed as for Matt’s ‘guys’.

The way she had reached out and touched Matt’s shoulder. 

How she had dismissed Sylvie. 

His shirt. 

“You left it at mine.”

That was a sucker punch. 

So much for his feelings being real. 

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. A text notification. Then someone’s calling her, but all Sylvie can do is hold on to the pleather covered bench seat and wait until the world rights itself. She thought...

This hurts worse than the “I don’t know” on her couch, this was Matt making a choice and not fighting for her. Not caring about how this would impact her. Sylvie never thought Matt would intentionally hurt her, she asked about Gabby to see what would happen, to understand where his head and his heart were at. 

At the time she had needed answers to continue, because her heart was so wrapped up in him. In the possibility of what they could be. 

She had been vulnerable, and scared, but she’d done it anyway.

And somehow Matt had taken her request for space and turned around and moved on with the next available woman. Regardless of Gabby. Regardless of his feelings for Sylvie, he had hopped into bed with someone else and then let Sylvie make a fool of herself this morning. 

Colour flushed her cheeks, pressing her cool hands into the red and warm skin Sylvie thought of his hand on her cheek. Just that one time, and it lived in her mind, replaying at the worst moments. 

Outside of her little bubble, the bells went off and Sylvie straightened her jacket and exited the Ambo. Rounding the side, she slipped into the drivers seat, ready and waiting when Mackey came out. 

-

After their initial run, Sylvie and Mackey were called to two additional sites. Stretching out their time outside of the house. Sylvie suggested grabbing dinner on the go, because they couldn’t rely on food back the house. Mackey had easily agreed, directing Sylvie to a hamburger stand not far from 51. 

They ate their burgers, and shared fries, sitting in the rig, looking out over an empty football field. 

“The Captain sent Gallo home.”

Sylvie turned to her partner, “why?”

“Blake texted me the that Casey was in a mood, stomping around the house, second guessing what Gallo did at the gas station fire.” Mackey was texting, her burger balanced on one knee. “He’s a bit of a hot head, the Captain. Jumping out of moving trucks, getting flung over ariels, telling Gallo to go home.”

Wordlessly, Sylvie eats a fry. 

“Did you get one of the doughnuts his girlfriend brought by?”

The bite of French Fry turns to paste in Sylvie’s mouth. “No. I didn’t.”

“She brought in the fancy ones from that place in Wicker Park. The ones that are like 8 bucks a doughnut. The guys loved it though.”

“Nothing like sugar to endear those guy to you.”

Mackey squinted at Sylvie, it was closing in on 7pm, and the glow of the street lights painted them both orange in the cab. “Are you okay, Brett?”

She wasn’t. But Mackey wasn’t Foster. Her relationship with Sylvie was different, and Sylvie didn’t want to stir up any drama. 

“I’m just really tired. Maybe we should go back and I’ll see if I can get some sleep.”

Sylvie used that excuse to head right to the bunk room, she fell on her regular bed and pulled the pillow over her head. Hopefully that would be enough to make anyone leave her alone. 

They had two more calls that shift, one just after 10, and the other right before 6. This allowed Sylvie to just kind of bleed into the background. She avoided Casey, the common room and didn’t look at her phone. It wasn’t a lie, she was exhausted, and when shift ended her and Kidd hightailed it out of the firehouse, both avoiding running into any officer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The fact that you’ve moved on doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Sylvie feels a flutter of panic in her chest. “Does it?”
> 
> Matt clears his throat, “no. I still want-“ he stops, “you’re very important to me.”
> 
> Maybe this can be enough. 
> 
> “You’re really important to me too, Matt.”
> 
> They’re just standing in Sylvie’s lobby, staring at each other, the snow creating a puddle around Sylvie as it melts. Weirdly all she can think of is some old Dawson’s Creek episode, where Pacey told Joey she was off the hook. That the mere act of being in love with her was enough. That’s how she feel about Matt. 
> 
> Or, at least, it’s how she will feel about Matt, when her heart rate gets back to normal. When looking at him doesn’t make her come alive and want to cry in equal measure.
> 
> Spoilers for 9x06 sneak peek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fandom as a whole is wonderfully creative and supportive. 
> 
> I’ve had a run of bad days in a row, and your engagement and encouragement have been the light at the end of a tunnel. Thank you. 
> 
> I have a vague idea where this is all going. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr, send me an ask, a head cannon, anything!!
> 
> As always, editing is my weakness. That and Lilly’s salted caramel chocolate.

Sylvie isn’t much of a napper. She never has been; after shift, when she tosses and turns in bed beside Stella for a solid hour, Sylvie gives up and gets out from under the covers. Her phone is still charging, so Sylvie leaves a note for Stella on the coffee table and heads out for a walk. Chicago winters are cold, but she’s a Hoosier, and this is nothing compared to Indiana. 

It’s not like she had a plan, just bundled up, walked out her building and turned left. These streets aren’t the ones she rides on 61, just slightly out of her district. Lockdown took away the summer she intended to spend learning about her new neighborhood, and now the winter chill has prohibited her from venturing out. 

The walk serves a twofold purpose, examine the streets near her, and clear her head.

Before noon, after about three hours of waking, Sylvie finds a local deli that still has sidewalk seating. Coffee and matzo ball soup is the perfect remedy to her cold problem. The other problem, the Matt problem, doesn’t seem to have such a clear answer. 

Sylvie knows she asked for space. Knows she said that it could never happen again. That’s the mature, rational thing. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t hold onto some weird string of hope that Matt would show up and prove to her that the reward was worth the risk. 

Instead he hooked up with the billboard girl. 

Which brought more questions than answers. 

Absently Sylvie reaches for her phone, remembering she left it at home to charge. It’s okay, no one will be looking for her other than Stella, and Sylvie left the note. When she came back to Chicago after breaking up with Kyle it had felt right. Felt like a homecoming. Sylvie had no way to know that by the same time the next year she would be living alone, having buried Julie, struggling with what Matt meant to her. That if her friend wasn’t crashing at her apartment, maybe no one would know, or care, where she was all day. 

Just once, Sylvie wishes, she didn’t have to learn the hard way. 

The longing for Otis, catches her off guard. He would be the person she could actually speak about this with. Cruz is not an option, she doesn’t want to show up and speak with Boden or Severide. Herrmann and Mouch are out as sounding boards on her romantic life. Gallo and Ritter both too young, and too far removed. Mackey would offer, but it feels like a bad way to be a leader. 

Of course she has Stella, but Otis was her room dawg. He would understand the history and the hesitancy. Probably convince her to watch a Sci-fi movie with a similar plot, as if this not-love story could happen in space. 

Maybe that’s what makes this whole situation harder, that Sylvie and Matt had a friendship that spanned years, and then this was all this recent sadness. Gabby leaving. Otis dying. Julie. Maybe all it was, in the end, was something Sylvie made up in her head. 

But she remembers the way Matt had replied when she told him she had wanted this, them, for a long time. The softness in his voice as he said ‘me too’.

It’s too much to think to about. Too much pressure to put on single person. Way too much pressure to put on the start of a relationship. 

Sylvie knows that this can’t have been easy for Matt. She kissed him, and then pulled away. 

And people are always leaving him. 

It’s been hours now, Sylvie made it all the way to Wacker before she gave up and turned home. This was what she needed, the space to clear her head; to understand that in the grand scheme of things, someone she is never going to have, can hook up with whoever they want. 

She just wanted him to want her back the same way. 

Ever since she was little, Sylvie has had a fuzzy outline of what Prince Charming might look and act like. She has adjust the image as she aged, horse ownership significantly less important, but she never waivers on the man of her dreams fighting for her. Harrison pushed her away. Antonio didn’t know how to fight for an other person the way she needed. Kyle made her think for a moment that he was fighting for her with that proposal, but in the end he still let her leave. 

And this, this misplaced idea of falling in love with Matt, well, it never really took flight. 

Snow started falling a little while ago, the soft, fluffy stuff that sticks around. It’s a little like magic when the street lights turn on, casting long shadows in the white ground. Stopping at the grocery store Sylvie grabs a few things for dinner, impulsively adding purple hydrangea’s just before she checks out. The snow is coming down faster than before, forcing Sylvie to made a made dash the last four blocks to her building. Reaching for the handle on the front door she hears her name. 

“Sylvie!”

It’s Matt. 

His truck is parked outside the building, but it’s covered in a fine dusting of white powder, just the windshield wipers working to clear it. Jogging up the last few steps Matt comes to a stop in front of her. 

This could be her first test. Sylvie pulls the door open fully, gesturing for him to come inside. Once their inside Matt just watches her as she shakes the flakes from her beanie, removes the plastic from her flowers to check on them. 

“What brings you by?” 

Matt leans towards her, “where have you been?”

“I went for a walk.”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours, and then Kidd said you weren’t home, but I saw your car.”

Sylvie dislodges snow from her shoulder, “I left my phone at home.”

Matt looks annoyed. Or incredulous. 

“Really!” She says, “it died on shift, and I hadn’t brought my charger to the house, so I left it to charge when I left this morning.”

He’s still just looking at her, and Sylvie knows he’s going to bring it up. She steals herself, thinks about locking her heart behind plate glass. 

“We were talking when Sydney,” he blushes furiously, “showed up.”

“She seems nice.”

Matt’s doing something weird with his chin, something she might have found endearing just 24 hours ago. Now it’s just a thing. 

“I didn’t know,” Matt stumbles, eyes downcast. 

“Know what?”

He squares his shoulders, “that she would show up at 51. That you might not want space.”

There is so much she could say, she could read him the riot act, she could cry, she could tell him how her heart felt like it was being squeezed through a tree chipper when she realized what it all meant. But none of those things will make her happy. None of those things will make this easier between them. 

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.” She means it. Truly. 

She can love him, put a pin in it and walk away; keep her good friend, and find a way to move on. 

His eyes are searching her face, but Sylvie notes in a detached manner that he is not trying to say anything else. Not trying to explain anything. Matt says her name but it doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore. Not really. 

“The fact that you’ve moved on doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Sylvie feels a flutter of panic in her chest. “Does it?”

Matt clears his throat, “no. I still want-“ he stops, “you’re very important to me.”

Maybe this can be enough. 

“You’re really important to me too, Matt.”

They’re just standing in Sylvie’s lobby, staring at each other, the snow creating a puddle around Sylvie as it melts. Weirdly all she can think of is some old Dawson’s Creek episode, where Pacey told Joey she was off the hook. That the mere act of being in love with her was enough. That’s how she feel about Matt. 

Or, at least, it’s how she will feel about Matt, when her heart rate gets back to normal. When looking at him doesn’t make her come alive and want to cry in equal measure. 

“You should go home before the roads get too bad.” The words fall from her lips because she doesn’t really know what else to say or do. 

Matt’s just nodding at her, his chin doing that weird thing again when he repeats to her what she said earlier. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Sylvie lunges forward impulsively and gives him a hug around her groceries. The styrofoam board the chicken is on squeaks from the pressure, and the purple hydrangeas end up nearly in her eye. Matt’s grip on her is a little too tight, his hands holding her just a bit to roughly. Neither one of them wants to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💛💚💜♥️💙  
> I’m excited for Wednesday. Even if things go sideways in the show, we’ll have have our imaginations. 
> 
> Drop a line below, tell me what you liked, and what you didn’t (nicely, I’m fragile) but want grow as a writer.


	3. Chapter 3

There’s this panicked moment, where Sylvie feels the heat creeping closer at her heels, she’s holding the injured woman up, where for one brief half second she just wants Matt. It’s a silly thing to want someone when the world is closing in on you, but it’s true. As if she summoned him, suddenly he is there, Severide on one side of him, grabbing roughly at her shoulders and yanking her forward at a breakneck pace. Severide moves and grabs the injured woman, Sylvie knows that somewhere behind them Grainger is the last from the house. 

Exiting in a plume of smoke and soot, Sylvie gulps in fresh air, blinking at the suddenly brilliant winters sky. Matt’s hand are on her arms, her neck, touching her face, sliding over her cheek and chin. For all that she wanted him a moment ago this attention is painful. 

“The patient!” She gasps. 

Severide is carrying the injured woman, Linn and Hardacre meeting him, gurney at the ready, moving swiftly to asses. 

“Are you okay?” Matt turns her head, inspects the back of her neck, pats her jacket for hot spots, even as he pulls her further from the house. Distantly Sylvie is aware that Grainger is calling for water now, instructing Ritter to douse the fire. There’s movement all around them, Mackey rushing forward to grab Sylvie’s elbow; Kidd bellowing at Terrance to tighten a hose. And over it all Matt peering in at her, his face contorted in rage and worry. 

“I’m fine.”

He’s telling Mackey to check her airway, so Sylvie says it again, louder. “I’m fine!”

“What the hell were you doing in there?”

“I was called in.” It’s not until the words are out of her mouth that Sylvie understands just how precarious this situation truly is. 

Matt’s mouth is a thin line when he finally speaks, “by who?”

She doesn’t answer, but Sylvie doesn’t need to, she knows that Matt knows who called her in. Sylvie can see it all over his face, and then he’s pulling off his helmet and stomping across the yard. 

“What the hell is your problem?” His open palm connects with Grainger’s shoulder, and Sylvie watches as Grainger staggers back a step, bewildered. 

“What the hell?”

The fire is mostly out now, Sylvie knows enough to know that, she can see Ritter and Gallo fanning the water in through a broken front window. Moments ago she was standing there. 

“Too busy showing off to think clearly?” Matt shoves Grainger again, Severide and Cruz calling his name as they get closer. 

Grainger screws his face up in confusion, “what the hell, dude?”

“I’m your superior officer! I did not authorize you to bring a medic into the house!” Severide inserts himself, pushing back at Casey’s chest. “You’re here covering a shift, not trying to kill members of my house!”

“Cool it, Casey!” Severide snaps, forcing Casey back a half step. 

“I called in a medic to help with transport, and assessment, none of us expected the winds to change like that!” 

Casey sidesteps Severide, batting away Gallo’s arm. “You had no right to call her in there! That was an active fire!”

“Casey!” Sylvie says, not quiet shouting, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

He barely spares her a glance. 

“You’re getting written up! This was my scene, and you were just trying to impress Brett.”

Grainger is truly caught off guard. “What?”

“You should know better than to call a medic into a situation like that! The last time Sylvie was called into a building-“ abruptly Casey stops, both Severide and Sylvie are standing in front of him, eyes on him, and the pained expression on his face. 

“Yeah,” Grainger says, “her arm got broken.”

It’s the worst thing to say. 

The absolute worst. 

Because that day was the day they lost Otis, and the day that Matt thought he might had killed Sylvie. He carried that guilt. Carries it still. “You don’t know what your talking about,” Matt spits, eyes blazing. 

“I know you’re accusing me of something just because you’re too cowardly to tell her how you feel.”

It’s an explosion of movement for the second time. Casey lunges out, but Sylvie catches her chest with her hands, pushing him backwards, until Severide gets a firm grip of one shoulder, Cruz the other. 

“Matt!” Her voice is loud, determined, and it makes Casey turn away from Grainger just long enough for her to say, “get back in your truck!”

Grainger had the decency not to say anything, which allows Sylvie to pointedly steer Matt away. She’s angry. This is all so embarrassing. 

“Sylvie,” Matt begins. 

“Don’t!” But is too quiet to really be called snapping at him. She sounds defeated. “Just don’t, Casey.” Sliding her eyes to Severide, she asks, “you got it from here?”

Nodding, Severide keeps his eyes on Casey. Good. One less person to see her flushed face. 

“We’ve got a patient to transport.” Mackey’s voice is subdued, turning over to her, Sylvie nods, walking away from 81, Severide and Matt. 

-

When 61 gets back to the house, it’s just Squad 3 and Truck 81 on the floor. Boden’s buggy is gone, and Engine 51 is still out. Sylvie feels the eyes of everyone from Squad on her as she slams the door shut on the Ambo, and move into the house. Gallo, who was doing laundry looks up and then quickly away as she brushes past him.

“He is his quarters?”

Gallo nods, “ah, yeah.”

“Thanks.”

Sylvie doesn’t bother knocking, yanking the door open, getting a brief moment of satisfaction from the way Matt startles. “What were you thinking?”

He’s still just sitting at his desk, staring over at her, Sylvie pulls the door shut, crosses her arms over her chest. Matt slowly stands, reaches out and pulls down the blinds on the door, brushes her arm as she pulls the second string to close the blinds over the portion facing the bunk room. “Well?” Sylvie demands, feeling like she might explode. 

“You never should have been in that house.”

So, that’s it then. That’s how he is going to play this. She’d want to cry if she wasn’t so damn exhausted. 

“That’s a poor excuse and you know it.” 

Matt makes a sharp noise of derision. 

There’s anger filling her belly. “It was safe! You think I would go in somewhere I felt unsafe?”

“You’re not a firefighter, you’re not trained to make that call.”

Sylvie tilts her head back, the back of her skull touching the cool metal of the door jam. “No, I’m not a firefighter. But I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were!”

“You called into question my judgement on a call, in front of my whole damn house!”

“Not your judgement.”

Honestly, she wants to scream. Or stomp her foot. “Matt, I’ve followed you into precarious situations before, how is this different?”

“Because I have your best interest at heart!”

If she was the type to scoff, she would. Instead, Sylvie just looks at him. “You can’t have it both ways.”

“What?” Matt’s just as confused as Grainger was on the scene. 

“You can’t be the guy who doesn’t want me, and scares off the guys who do.”

“At what point,” says Matt, hand on his head, “have I said I don’t want you?”

Sylvie opens her mouth in shock, seriously? “Seriously?” He’s pacing in front of her now, “you run off and date that girl when I ask for space, after you tell me you have feelings for me, regardless of your ex?!”

“I am not in love with Gabby!”

“This isn’t about Gabby! This is about you, and how you’re just waiting for her to come back!”

Matt shakes his head, “I’m not.”

“If your feelings for me had been real, you would not have been able to bounce between me and that accident victim, and you know it.”

“What about you and Grainger? How many dates has it been?”

“You’re just jealous that I’m moving on, proving my point that none of this is about me, and it’s all about you waiting for Gabby to come back.”

Matt looks genuinely shocked at her words. “I’m not waiting for Gabby. It’s not regardless, it’s just...” he shrugs. 

“Did you know that no one ever really chooses me?” Sylvie wants to cry, but pulls her arms tighter instead. “I thought you were different. But I can’t do this.”

“I’d chose you.”

“Well,” Sylvie snaps, “you didn’t today. Do you think any of that male posturing had anything to do with me? Because as far as I can tell, you were just mad someone moved in on your territory.”

Blindly, Sylvie reaches for the door handle, eager to leave, suddenly feeling very drained. She has the door half open, when Matt replies, “no, I’m pissed off because that asshole called the person I love into an unsafe situation, and you still won’t believe me when I tell you how I feel!”

The door is all the way open now, and she can see the people in the bunk room. Severide. Kidd. Cruz. Mouch. And Grainger. 

Great. Just great. 

She has more to say, both to Matt and the people listening in, but timing in a busy house is on no ones side, and the bells go off calling Squad and Ambo to car accident. As she rushes past, Stella reaches out and squeezes her elbow. 

-

After they drop off the patient at Med, Sylvie is surprised to see Squad 3 idling at the edge of the ambulance bay. Mackey points at 61, where a blank faced Severide leans against the driver side door. 

“Move.” Sylvie instructs, when she is close enough, that anger and embarrassment still swirling in her belly. 

Severide squints past her at Mackey. “How would you ladies feel about stopping for the best burritos in town?”

“I’m down.”

Sylvie sends Mackey a look, “traitor.”

“My treat.” Severide smiles, thumbs hooked in his suspenders as he walks backwards towards his Squad. Sylvie pulls herself into the drivers seat, waits while Mackey buckles up and follows the Squad down the street. 

“We can ditch if you really want,” Mackey offers. 

It’s a sweet gesture. “Might as well get this over with.”

“So, I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

Sylvie flicks on the turn signal, staring dead ahead. “He’s not.”

“Seems like he might want to be.”

“I don’t think Matt knows what he wants.”

Giana laughs, “Matt, huh?”

Sylvie shrugs, “it’s his name.”

“It’s a nice name.”

“Yeah?” Sylvie asks, pulling up behind the Squad, and shifting the Ambo into park, but then when she speaks again her voice is very soft, “it is a nice name.”

Mackey seems to understand the hesitation that Sylvie feels, waiting while Sylvie gathers her thoughts before they exit the Ambo. It’s a new experience for Sylvie to have a partner who just implicitly trust her. It’s nice. She doesn’t mind teaching. “Make sure you order big,” she advises, “Severide is paying, and we are eating like kings.”

Cruz takes the time to give them both a quick once over, smiling cheerfully at Mackey and sending Sylvie a resigned grin. It’s Tony who gruffly asks Sylvie how she is doing, dark eyes serious. 

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you are. Order big, Severide is paying.”

After they order, and have their food in hand, Mackey and the rest of squad huddle in the heated back portion of Squad 3. Cruz and Capp taking turns showing off what equipment is for, Sylvie watches them, leaning against the front of the Ambo while Severide watches her chew. 

“So,” he starts, a chuckle in his voice, “we got to talk about today.”

“Is the person whose girlfriend is currently crashing at my place, trying to give me romantic advice?” Sylvie chews aggressively. Which makes Severide smile, the nerve of him. 

“Those who can’t do, teach.”

“I’m not going to listen to any advice you won’t follow.”

Beside her, Severide nods. “I guess that’s fair.”

Sylvie takes an other savage bite. 

“He hasn’t thought of Gabby in months.”

“Great, good for him.”

“Brett, come on.” She shrugs halfheartedly, Severide starts again, “he told me you’re the only one he’s thinking of.”

Her mouth is full of fried fish, and rice; the soft shell of the burrito suddenly dry and heavy. 

“He’s just as scared as you are.”

Sylvie swallows, “did he tell you that he told me he had feelings for me regardless of Gabby?”

Wincing slightly, Kelly shrugs, “words of affirmation are not his love language.”

This is so absurdly not what she expected; that all Sylvie can do is laugh. “What?”

“Acts of service. Physical touch. If you’ve got those, you’ve got Matt.”

Sylvie thinks of how he stayed when her apartment door had been open, how he helped her move this summer, every time he showed up and helped her. The memory of his hand on her face lingers, and she finds herself blushing. 

“What if Gabby comes back? Would he leave?”

Kelly is studying her, shaking his head a little, “no. He’s a Chicago guy. Same as me. Same as you, maybe. And he knows that doesn’t have a happy end in it for him.”

The foil wrapper of her burrito is suddenly very interesting. “What’s the reason you’re being a jerk to my best friend?”

“Short answer?” Severide huffs, “I’m an idiot. Long answer, I don’t want to cost her, her dream.”

It doesn’t really answer things for Sylvie, truthfully, but she knows what she says is the truth, “any dream of Stella’s is better with you beside her.”

“Copy that.”

“Wait,” Sylvie says, “promise me that’s he’s not waiting for Gabby. That I’m not an in between option.”

“We both know that he’s team Brett, now you just have to get on board.” Severide pushes off of the Ambo, crumpling his foil wrapper in one hand. “Don’t mess with my friends head.”

“Don’t mess with mine.”

Severide walks backwards away from her, his hands raised in surrender. “See you back at the house.”

-

By the grace of God, and the truly horrible luck of the people of Chicago, Sylvie makes it through the rest of her shift with neither Casey or Grainger in the house at the same time. She sees Casey sitting in Boden’s office, his back expressionless, and then not again. It’s shift change and she catches up to Grainger on the apron when he’s leaving. 

“So,” she starts, “I think we should talk.”

Grainger smiles at her, a little incredulous, “yeah. I guess.”

“It’s not what you think.” Sylvie joins him beside his Jeep. “It’s complicated, but there isn’t anything happening there. And, like maybe for a minute there was, but then I stopped it, because there’s all this history.”

“You stopped it?”

“Yes!” Sylvie says, “I stopped it. Because he has an ex wife who I used to be friends with, I was practically the maid of honour at their wedding, and then I was engaged, but I also went on like a dozen double dates with Matt. He was there for when my life was falling apart last year, and obviously we both never dealt with the fallout of our messy prior relationships. So, I stopped it.”

Greg considers her, “why’d you stop it?”

“Because he’s still in love with Gabby and I deserve more than that.”

“Casey is in love with you.”

Sylvie nods. “Exactly.” Then she startles. “What? No! He’s not.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him too.”

This time she laughs. “No. I’m really—“ Sylvie shakes her head, “I’m moving on.”

“I have no idea why I am literally sending the girl I like after the guy who is clearly an idiot, but, Sylvie,” Greg shrugs, “come on.”

“Did you miss the part about the ex wife and the fiancé?”

Greg levels her with a serious stare, and Sylvie vaguely think that in an alternate universe they might have stood a chance. “What’s all that in the face of true love?” Then he pats her shoulder and gets in his car. It’s maybe the nicest kiss off she’s ever had.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, if you made it this far, I salute you. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr and ask me everything.

After the shift she’s just had, Sylvie makes a detour to the specialty tea shop downtown and treats herself to a half pound of this loose leaf she loves. When she does make it back to her apartment complex she’s tired, and Sylvie wants to eat something and then head to bed. So, of course Matt’s leaning against the wall across from her door. He looks over at her when she rounds the corner, duffle bag over one shoulder and the loose leaf tea in it silver tin in her other hand. 

“Hey.”

Sylvie can’t help but smile. Digging out her keys, she walks to her door. “Hey.” When the door is open Sylvie looks back over her shoulder, “you coming in, or what?”.

Matt closes the door behind them, Sylvie hears the lock slide across as she moves to the kitchen. By the time Matt joins her, leaning against the frame that breaks up her kitchen from the living room, Sylvie has filled the teapot. He watches her as she works. Opening the fridge Sylvie pulls out eggs and cheese, looking back at Casey with a question. 

“No, I’m good.” Sylvie sends him an other look, “fine, yeah, I can eat.” Matt removes his coat, moving into the kitchen when she’s working, he grabs a bowl and a whisk, taking the eggs from her. It’s a reminder of how well they work together, how he helped her unpack and reorganize the kitchen. 

It makes no sense, but Sylvie finds herself leaning into his shoulder, pressed alongside him as he grates cheese. She watches his hands, because they are objectively one of her favourite things; this past summer she had joined him at Mr Larson’s house, the two of them had replaced a rotten board on the deck, while Mr Larson had watched from the kitchen window. Matt had given her his gloves, which had meant that Sylvie watched his bare hands measure and cut the boards. She hadn’t even been aware that that was really a thing, being attracted to hands. 

“You have toast?”

Sylvie moves down the counter, she’s pulling out bangles from a paper bag while Matt heats a skillet. The water boils, and she makes a pot of tea, because she knows that Matt likes it, even if he’d rather have coffee. There is something comforting about the shared silence of her kitchen, not talking, just the hiss of heated butter, the hum of the toaster, and the sound of Matt pushing the eggs around the pan. Matt’s the only person she’s ever had this with. There’s usually a bubble of anxiety in her chest, forcing her to smile and talk, making her outwardly perform. With Matt that pressure just isn’t there. 

The timing comes together, eggs and toasted bagels plated, tea in mugs, and they’re seated at the table, looking at each other. Sylvie has lost count of the number of meals they’ve shared; three meals every three days for roughly the last six years and change. That doesn’t even take into account the times they’ve shared drinks at Molly’s, the CFD BBQ’s they’ve attended. More recently the times they’ve broken bread in righter one of their apartments. 

“I can’t lose you.”

Matt keeps his eyes on his eggs, but Sylvie can see the way his shoulders sag a little. “I’m not going anywhere, Sylvie.”

“Not now,” she pinches her bagel between two fingers, “but, what happens to me when Gabby comes home? Or you realize that I’m not enough?”

“Sylvie.” Her name is a whole damn essay when he says it, it’s just that Sylvie can’t seem to read him anymore. Doesn’t know what he’s trying to convey. Matt rounds the table, and sits in the chair beside her, his knees bracketing her chair. “I’m not sure at what point I made you think that I was waiting for Gabby, but I’m not.”

Unbidden, her eyes look up. 

Matt’s still talking. “I wish I had said it that night,” Sylvie feels the heat spread over her face, thinking of the feel of him on top of her on her couch, “but, I wasn’t thinking straight. I came here because I was worried that I had scared you off, and I wanted to make things right, and then you kissed me.”

Matt’s hand has shifted from the back of her chair, to just skimming the space between her shoulder blades. 

Sylvie replies, “you kissed me back.” It’s not an accusation, just an observation. 

“I’m just going to address the two issues you brought up, I’m not waiting for Gabby. I don’t love her, how could I when you’re the person on my mind?”

“What?”

Matt’s hand presses into her spine. “Sylvie, I haven’t had the metal capacity to think of anyone else for months. Practically a whole year. You’re more than enough.”

Her fingers itch to touch his face. “What about Sydney?”

Flinching, Matt presses closer to her, “I have no excuse for that. I was trying to move on, but realized practically immediately that it was damn near impossible.”

“It’s over with Grainger.” 

Matt let’s put a breath, it’s heavy; the moment grows and expands between them, Sylvie feels deep in her chest that this is either a start or an end. She doesn’t want it to be an end. Please don’t let it be and end, she thinks. That fear forces her to be brave. “Matt, I don’t what to date anyone who isn’t you.” Sylvie leans forward, her forehead pressing against Matt’s shoulder, “I am so tired to fighting this.”

His lips are so close to her ear that Sylvie feels each word on her skin. “What are we fighting it for?”

It’s a really good question. Matt has answered her fears. He wants her, not Gabby. And he knows her, he knows her strengths and her weaknesses; Matt is the person she feels safest with in the whole world. Even now. Sylvie doesn’t have an answer to the question, not a verbal one at least, so she does what she has wanted to do for the longest time, she turns her head and finds his lips.

This kiss is different. 

It’s purposeful. 

It’s a promise. And an answer. 

It’s the things she most afraid of in the world, and the only thing that makes her calm. It’s everything, now she just has to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🦖♥️😘

**Author's Note:**

> Send me asks in tumblr, same username!!
> 
> Tell me your predictions!!!


End file.
